


House by the sea

by Skrigget



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M, Peter is not very demonic, Song Lyrics, Song fic, cosy fics are cosy, gentle!Peter, i blame everyone, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1486099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skrigget/pseuds/Skrigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter goes home - but where is that?<br/>They say home is a place you can choose to be</p>
            </blockquote>





	House by the sea

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a depressing captain pan fic and then i had to do this as well and it's very... not like something I'd usually do but here it is anyway, I hope it's ok

They say home is the place where your heart is  
Then I am home now, though I am far away

Peter looks at the camp, looks at his boys and the fire burning, casting shadows over their youthful, innocent faces. Because they are truly innocent, in their own way. Only ever exposed to the world Peter have lead them see – so unaware of what else is out there. He rolls his eyes when one of them hits another and a couple of seconds pass before they are rolling around on the forest floor. Pulling, hitting, biting. Peter even smirks. It calms him in an odd way to look at his boys – many would argue that he hates them, that they are disposable for him and yes they may be, but he chose to expose them to the wonders of Neverland. He gave them a change; he saved them from the miseries they – without doubt – would have encountered sooner rather than later. 

Felix moves from where he’s been situated at the other end of the camp. Peter stand up as well, walks towards the boy. The other’s eyes are covered in darkness and Peter can hardly see his blonde hair. Felix talks about the others boys but Peter doesn’t really listen. Every now and again he looks to where he knows the sea is, where the shore is, where the beach and the lagoons and the water that can fill his lungs with something else but air, is. 

Felix asks him is he’s okay and Peter snorts and rolls his eyes before he demands the other to remember his place and Felix actually lookes pleased with this. It causes Peter to snort again but a small smirk twists his big, red lips. 

For so long I've let the forest guard it  
And now it's begging me to stay

He walks into the forest, Neverland’s seemingly never-ending jungle. It twists and it turns, moves under his gently touch. It’s a trap, but more importantly; it’s his trap. He controls this, he is the leader, the king, the very force of energy on this island and in this jungle – the forest covers him, settles around him comfortable as if it senses his presence and behaves accordingly; and it probably does. 

Peter’s steps are silent and he moves like a shadow. Not a leaf crunch, not a branch or twig make a sound. It’s as if he isn’t even there, and yet he is all there is. His breathing becomes the gently wind tugging as the treetops, his footsteps become the subtle bird chirping that darts from the sky above him. 

This is where he belongs; this is not just a jungle or a forest or trees lined in front of him. This is a place he made; a fraction of his very imagination, created from the depths of a lonely child who grew up just to return to this place. He stops all of the sudden and turns around quickly. Headed for the camp. 

They say home is a place where you're needed  
Then I am home now, but I am leaving

His Lost Ones are sound asleep – even Felix. Curled up in themselves, dreaming even though this is the very paradise for dreams and make believes. Some of them are crying but Peter doesn’t do anything to stop them. He could wake up Felix, make him do something about it, but his second in command needs his sleep; he is only human. Peter snorts and looks away. When the sun sets they’ll wake up and they’ll turn to him; they’ll ask him what game he’s prepared for them today. They’ll be anxious and anticipating. 

The blood from a long day dries from underneath the boy’s nails, the sun stays hidden behind the trees and the starts shines brighter than ever on the dark sky as he crosses the camp and leaves without looking back. 

This is not who I want you to see  
It's just adding on weight to the darkness in me

He’s glad the other one isn’t there, he’s glad that he’s alone (as alone as he can be) on the silent island. He should’ve let the sleep that's dulling his Lost Ones leave hours ago, he should’ve let the sun set by now. But he hasn’t, not just yet. He sits on the stone, staring out as the sea. From here he can see it – the ship. It’s nice like this; being able to see it. If he wanted to he could materialize onto in a matter of seconds. He doesn’t, however, instead he just sits there, letting the sun sleep while the stars and the moons shines on. He wonders is the other one sleeps as well – if he let it be like this would any of them ever wake up? Would they still hold onto their pillows, would they still breath heavily and honestly, would they still let their senses be dulled away, tugged into the darkest corners of the demons mind? 

A devilish smirk plays on Peter’s lips and the boy bites his lips until he can taste his own refreshing, metallic blood in his mouth. It fills his mouth like venom; poisons his lunges and his throats. When he finally moves the magic around him pulses, as if the island itself has been holding its breath, waiting anticipating for Peter’s next move. 

They say home is a place you can choose to be  
And I've decided to carry home inside me  
So it's not really as if I am leaving  
It's more like something pulling me

He flies with what magic he has left in him. He’s saved it for what seems like centuries – and it probably is. He’s hovering just above surface of the water. He can see his reflection in the mirror below him. His features are not as tight as they usually are. His eyes are different as well. They are shining brighter than the stars that are finally beginning to disappear as the dark in the sky turns less and less black and more and more blue – the same blue as his eyes. He can’t help but to fly quicker when he remembers the eyes. They’re pulling at him, ripping him away from everything behind him but he can’t really find it in him to care so he doesn’t. 

Because behind everything that I do  
I just want to forget, want to carry this through

He pretends that he can’t hear his Lost Ones waking up, that he can’t feel the jungle pulse and stir, that he can’t taste the camp fire in his mouth, that he can’t pin point every place his precious blood has been spilled on that island behind him – behind him. The island, that isn’t just an island because if it was then he wouldn’t need to forget, would he? His lounges are arching and his fingers are twisting when he feel Felix walking up. He can imagine the boy looking around for him. They won’t notice that he isn’t there, not just yet. And it shouldn’t matter to him, just as it shouldn’t matter to them; he’s left before. He is the leader, the king, the god of Neverland. Of Neverland, but what about everything else? 

When he sets foot on the Jolly Roger he forgets about everything that is and used to be. The smirk on his beautiful lips turns wider and more devilish and he truly looks like a demon when he walks towards the captain’s cabin. 

Yeah behind everything that I do  
I just want to come home and lay down beside you

Peter is surprised to find him sleeping. He considers waking him up but then decides not to. Instead he ever so gently (gentler then anything the eternal boy has done for years) pulls away the blanket. Peter settles down next to the naked, strong body. The way the back tenses and the muscles moves the boy can tell that the captain is aware of his presence. For a second none of them move, both waiting for the other to do something. And when nothing happen Peter snorts and other laughs and then they fall into silence. Peter moves so his back is against the other’ but as soon as he’s done this, the other moves as well. Peter feels arms wrap around him protectively and he is pressed against an all too familiar body and he can’t find it in him to be worried about the position – or anything really. 

And then I'll be who I wanted to be  
In my heart I belong in a house by the sea


End file.
